Page 926 - of-human-bondage-

The man ate stolidly some mess which had been stewing
in a sauce-pan against his coming; he stared at his plate; his
wife looked at him two or three times, with little startled
glances, and then quite silently began to cry. The builder
was an uncouth little fellow with a rough, weather-beaten
face and a long white scar on his forehead; he had large,
stubbly hands. Presently he pushed aside his plate as if he
must give up the effort to force himself to eat, and turned a
fixed gaze out of the window. The room was at the top of the
house, at the back, and one saw nothing but sullen clouds.
The silence seemed heavy with despair. Philip felt that there
was nothing to be said, he could only go; and as he walked
away wearily, for he had been up most of the night, his heart
was filled with rage against the cruelty of the world. He
knew the hopelessness of the search for work and the deso-
lation which is harder to bear than hunger. He was thankful
not to have to believe in God, for then such a condition of
things would be intolerable; one could reconcile oneself to
existence only because it was meaningless.
It seemed to Philip that the people who spent their time
in helping the poorer classes erred because they sought to
remedy things which would harass them if themselves had
to endure them without thinking that they did not in the
least disturb those who were used to them. The poor did
not want large airy rooms; they suffered from cold, for their
food was not nourishing and their circulation bad; space
gave them a feeling of chilliness, and they wanted to burn
as little coal as need be; there was no hardship for several to
sleep in one room, they preferred it; they were never alone